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However, I can still make out the feminine curve of her hip as she shifts onto her side. London is sinuous. Decadent. And the closer to her I get, my body comes alive.
I feel her all around me. Her soft floral scent fills every single inch of this room, while the sight of her here, in my room, my house, fills me with warmth.
She brings out emotions in me that make no sense. That I’ve never thought to experience. Didn’t care to because the women around me were all after two things: my cock and money.
The notoriety that came from having my name attached to theirs, something Twirl doesn’t care about. I truly doubt she knows who I am or what I own.
She’s refreshing. Sweet.
I always want her close.
My last relationship was a disaster waiting to happen.
A slap in the face. A lie.
And at the end, when I put an end to us, I didn’t feel anything. I didn’t love her. Never did.
Love: a word that didn’t fit my life outside of family members. Those that hold blood ties to me, and yet, no one brings out in me what London does.
With her, I crave a bit of tenderness. To fuck her raw and then cuddle her close.
Somehow, she’s broken down walls made out of reinforced steel, getting under my skin.
Placing a knee on the bed, I climb up, careful not to shift too much and wake her. The mattress distributes my weight as I lower myself beside her, slipping beneath the comforter to move closer.
Even the simple set of pajamas Mariah put her in feel sinful.
Her body heat sears me in the most delicious of ways. Slowly, and even though I should wake her—let her know she’s with me, I wrap an arm around her midsection instead and pull her closer. The second her back meets my chest; I feel the tension drain from me. My entire being sags into the mattress while my lips press a soft kiss to the back of her neck.
This is enough for now. Just holding her and knowing she’s safe is enough.
London startles at the move, shooting up from the bed while trying to remove my arm from around her. “Don’t touch me, Alton,” she whimpers, and my heart breaks. My entire being freezes as her fear rocks the both of us.
She needs me. Those words are the sole reason I stay in this bed instead of heading out once more to hunt her pig of a brother down. To dismember her father.
“Twirl, it’s me,” I croon low, flipping her onto her back so she can see my face. However, her eyes remain closed as a tear slips down her cheek. Her bottom lip trembles. “Please, open those gorgeous blues and look at me.”
“Malcolm?”
“I’m here.”
Her small body stills and after a few deep breaths, she meets my stare. A heavy sigh—relief settles in as she realizes that she’s not at home. That she’s safe. “How?”
“You okay now, sweetheart?”
She nods, but then her brows furrow. “What are you doing here?”
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Keeping my tone soft, I lay beside her but keep an arm around her midsection. Nothing inappropriate, just letting her feel me. Get used to my touch.
“Telling Alton I was heading to bed after he…” Trailing off, Twirl brings a hand up to touch her neck—grimacing at the tender flesh there. That’s also when I see the angry lines down her arm, the hint of blood near the edge of broken skin.
My eyes move back to hers. If I see those marks again… “What did he do?”
“I don’t want to talk about that.” She shakes her head, eyes pleading me to drop it. London opens her mouth a few times and then closes it while her eyes survey the room. “How did you know where I…did Mariah call you? Because she appeared out of thin air, telling everyone we had an appointment with a designer that I never agreed to. She all but pushed me into the shower, gave me fifteen minutes to change, and I don’t remember much after that.”
Her rambling is adorable.
“That was all me.” With my forefinger, I run soothing circles over her stomach. “I sent her.”
